"You have no talent."
Those words pierced Kieran's heart like a jagged blade, leaving a wound that no salve could ever heal.
It felt as though the ground beneath him had crumbled away, leaving him to plummet into an abyss of despair. The world around him blurred, the faces of his peers, the glow of the orb, the murmurs of the crowd—all faded into a dull haze.
'What more could I have done?! Why me? Why now?' he screamed inwardly, his thoughts spiraling out of control.
He had done everything right. He'd been kind to everyone, stood up for the weak, and strived to make his existence meaningful in a world that seemed to favor cruelty and greed.
And yet, this was the reward he received?
His thoughts raced back to the fateful day he crossed paths with Frank, the boy whose name had become synonymous with torment in Kieran's life. Frank had been bullying a younger boy, and Kieran, driven by his sense of justice, had intervened.
That incident had sparked a long-standing enmity between them, but Kieran never regretted his actions. He believed, like Jane had told him, that every good deed brought him closer to a better destiny.
'The gods reward the righteous,' she had said. 'The more good you do, the greater your blessings in the awakening ceremony.'
Kieran had clung to those words like a lifeline. They had become his beacon of hope, his reason to persevere in a world that often seemed devoid of fairness.
And now, that hope was shattered.
He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. His head bowed low, concealing the tears that threatened to spill.
'I did everything! Every single thing! And still... I'm left with this?' His chest tightened, the pain so sharp it felt like he could barely breathe.
"Boy," the dean's voice cut through his inner turmoil. Kieran glanced up, forcing his expression into a mask of composure. "Don't feel disheartened. Hopefully, as soon as you leave these walls, you'll fulfill the conditions to unlock your talent. It's only a matter of time."
The dean's hand rested gently on his shoulder, a gesture meant to comfort. But to Kieran, it felt hollow—like a doctor offering platitudes to a dying patient.
'Time?' he thought bitterly. 'I've already wasted so much time believing in lies.'
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he managed a strained smile and nodded, stepping down from the dais and retreating into the sea of students.
The hall buzzed with murmurs, a cacophony of whispers and not-so-quiet remarks that gnawed at Kieran's already fragile state of mind.
"An SSS-rank talent, and it's useless. What a waste."
"I bet someone like me could've unlocked it easily. He's just too weak."
"Maybe his condition is to clean latrines for a decade. Ha! Wouldn't that be fitting?"
Their words were like poison, seeping into his veins and amplifying the anger simmering within him.
Kieran's gaze swept over the crowd, and his heart sank further. The faces of those he had once called friends, the ones he had defended and supported, now twisted with sneers and mockery.
'How could they?' he thought, his vision blurring with tears he refused to shed.
He clenched his fists tighter, the pain grounding him as he pushed through the crowd.
But the humiliation wasn't over.
A sudden force caught his foot, and he stumbled forward, barely managing to keep himself upright.
Laughter erupted around him as he turned to see the culprit—Frank, his leg still outstretched and his face split into a triumphant smirk.
"What's the matter, Kieran? Did you awaken a stumbling talent?" Frank sneered, eliciting another round of laughter from the crowd.
Kieran's jaw tightened, his body trembling with barely contained rage.
'Not here,' he reminded himself, glancing toward the teachers who lined the hall. 'I can't cause trouble here.'
Ignoring Frank's taunts, he pushed past him, each step feeling heavier than the last. He needed to find Jane. She was the only one who would understand, the only one who wouldn't turn her back on him like the others.
But when he reached the spot where she had been standing, she was gone.
His heart sank further. "Maybe she had something important to do," he murmured, trying to convince himself that she hadn't abandoned him too.
He wandered out of the hall, his feet carrying him to the staircase at the far end of the academy grounds. The flowers and neatly trimmed bushes that adorned the entrance seemed mocking in their vibrancy, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him.
Picking up a stone, he hurled it into the bushes with all his might.
"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!" he hissed, his voice cracking.
Tears streamed down his face now, unchecked and unstoppable.
'Why is this happening to me? Why does the world have to be so unfair?' His thoughts spiraled into a dark abyss.
He thought of Orion, the god he had prayed to so fervently for guidance and strength.
"Orion, curse you," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You're the reason for all of this."
Time passed in a blur. The noise from the hall ebbed and flowed, punctuated by the occasional laughter or cheer as students emerged, flaunting their newfound talents and mockingly glancing his way.
"At least I'm not as pathetic as him," he overheard one boy say.
Each word was another dagger to his heart, but he refused to react. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
As the ceremony finally ended and the crowd dispersed, Kieran remained in his corner, his mind numb from the weight of it all.
A sudden, sharp pain jolted him out of his thoughts.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he felt warm blood trickle down his fingers.
Turning, he saw Frank and his lackeys, Ben and Jacob, standing a few feet away, smirking.
Frank twirled a small rock in his hand before tossing it lazily into the air and catching it. "What's the matter, Kieran? I thought you were going to get a talent better than mine."
"Leave me alone," Kieran said, his voice low and tired as he stood.
But Ben stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
Frank's smirk widened. "You know, Kieran, I think we should do you a favor. How about we help you get rid of your pathetic life?"